Quadrate
by Mr. Despair
Summary: For Uchiha Sasuke, things had changed. He'd been brought back to Konoha, and underlying the facade of normality that surrounded his hometown and himself and were things scattered, gained, and demolished from the inside out. He learned this the hard way.
1. Prologue

**Quadrate**

**Prologue**

He breathed through his cracked lips, feeling like a floating entity traveling in and out. He wondered how his sword ended up between his lips and on his tongue, but he realized that his weapon was actually in hand and inside mouth was the warm, metallic thickness of blood. It gurgled upwards like a volcano and he would have lugged himself up from his laid down position, had he not felt so heavy. He hadn't tasted blood since long, long ago, when he was twelve and stupid and _weak_, and memories of _there_ were banished. Exiled.

His helplessness sickened him, and dirt gathered under his fingernails as he attempted to claw his way up to a sitting position from his spread eagled form. His teeth gritted and he kept coughing out a mixture of bile and blood, disgusted. His vision wavered in and out like a scratchy black and white television, but he was sure the blood was on his hands, he was sure it was dark, dark crimson and drying only to be revived with another stream from his body. The white of his shirt was muddy and red, with an odd mixture of colors like green and purple and red and brown, not sure where some of them came from.

He could see blurs, orange and pink and bright colors that stood out against the barren wasteland that used to be grassy and happy and teeming with the abundance of life, like his family in a life he lived long ago. In a life he abandoned, to be reborn and fulfilled with the light sheen of blood of that _monster_, pure scarlet staining the ground. He realized, that in the simplicity of death dawdling and the chakra ceasing flow, that his sharingan was off. He saw skies of pure darkness, pure dawning, dawning of evil or good or _something_, he did not know, did not wish to know, did not understand. In comparison, it was like he heard nothing; the strident screams were as natural as silence would be, and only one thing in the blundering screeches stood out.

_"–E!"_

_"–ASU–!"_

The voice echoed and screamed in such emotion that he hadn't felt in years. He couldn't quite hear the words, and his curiosity heightened along with his focus. He pushed himself into a wavering stance.

_"–SUKE!"_

He managed to reason that his own name was what was being repeatedly called despite the odd feeling of deafness in his ears. He felt misty and dreamy, as if at a distance; just waking up or just falling asleep. His head pumped and his muscles groaned. His senses felt unfamiliar and rusty, squeaking and squealing with any usage like aged machinery. Black began to stain his shivering vision, and he realized, his head beginning to fall back again as the voice in the back of his mind became shrill, that he was falling.

The last thing Sasuke remembered was a blinding glow.

_"RASENGAN!"_

* * *

_**...to be continued...**_

* * *


	2. Proximity: The Space Between

**Quadrate**

**Chapter One: Proximity**

_**(the space between points scattered like the stars)**_

Sasuke woke up, from something that he couldn't quite remember in the almost nostalgic fuzziness. His ears heard the faint chirping of cicadas which, after a few minutes of consciousness, seemingly rose in volume. His eyes, still unopened, were suddenly immersed in dim twilight. He felt sweaty and hot; he reasoned it was summer. He gazed at an article of paper that caught his eye, to see a calender, filled with images of nature at it's best. Xs marked it's way to the fourth day of July. On July twenty-third it would be his birthday; he would be seventeen. He hadn't seen a calender in a while, and often lost track of the date, only knowing when a year passed. When Orochimaru would etch another stroke by his name, when the seal would become more active.

He pushed these thoughts away, and tried to move his legs. He was less than satisfied of the situation; he was frustrated. He felt chains on his ankles, heavy and overbearing, but when he threw the blanket over to the side, he saw nothing but pale and red and purple. The purple of his bruises, the pale of some fortunate surviving skin, the red of cuts that marred him. Surely, he should be able to free himself from such a seal.

But that was when he had full use of his chakra.

He growled. He needed to snap himself out of it; perhaps he could pierce his legs to gain feeling, like in the Forest of Death. He needed to get out, no matter what; even if ANBU was guarding the door, even if he was virtually paralyzed. After the death of his parents, he'd been contemplative of suicide. But he realized, that he would only tarnish his family name with an dishonorable and cowardly death. His other option, the only option, was to avenge his family with the death of that monster.

Sasuke scanned his surroundings to calculate his escape. He looked to a trash can to see a more... mature calender than the previous, which even if ripped to shreds, 'Icha Icha' could be made out among the scraps. His limbs were heavy and his left hand somewhat cooler in comparison to his right. His gaze wandered right to the head of pink that lain on his stomach, now long tendrils astray, and the pale skinned digits that somewhat carelessly wrapped itself around his own. The sunlight danced with the shadows against Sakura's hair, as her other hand, the left, lay askew. He gathered what he could in a list; he could remember a voice telling him to relax, and the screams of Orochimaru when he died. He was in a Konoha hospital, Sakura was waiting for him, and ANBU was outside guarding.

A steely glint emerged from the dim room, and he saw two forehead protectors. He reasoned he could decide which ninja were visiting him this way. He brought one up with his free hand, (which _had_ to be on the opposite side) and taking great care in not waking the girl up, (he needed to be _stealthy_, and he couldn't afford for her to be all over him) grasped both metals. He brought one up for examination– it was red, oddly enough– and the scent of shampoo lingered. With some amusement he noted she used one with the scent of her namesake; it was a foreign scent, for he knew from past memories that she always used something scentless like required by all ninja. Although, he could still smell her shampoo from her own head, even at a distance, and believed she was on a day off.

Grasping the other forehead protector for study (no doubt his, his name was still engraved on the inside surface), he whiffed. It smelt like...vanilla? He sniffed it again, an eyebrow raised.

"...ah..."

Sakura's voice came in an unanticipated whisper. Her head was picked up drowsily, and it was reflected in her eyes. Her hair was fixed oddly, probably from her sleep. Her eyes were red rimmed, and Sasuke knew it was from crying; tears that he remembered all too well. He inwardly cursed for waking her up. She looked as if she would cry again, embrace him, and he was about to brace himself; but to his surprise she did not encircle him to offer him warmth.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

She didn't speak. She looked nervous and even fiddled with her hands. It used to be her "cute and shy act" back when she was an obnoxious twelve year old. But right now, it wasn't an illusion. "I was too close."

"Aa." He looked away disinterested, and still held his forehead protector.

Sakura had let her grasp of his hand skip away, and a rare breeze blew. The curtains shrouded her face, and the tree's rustled. Sakura clenched and unclenched her hands, as if not sure of what to say.

"What happened?" He said in the tone that always made him sound as if he was commanding.

"Nothing." He didn't believe her.

"What, Sakura?" He grasped her shoulders roughly, the red, strapped shirt wrinkling further in the sudden jerk. _She'd have to answer now,_ he decided. _She would've before._

He stared into her eyes for a good moment, but then her thin (not scrawny, just thin) arms lifted and her hands enclosed themselves on his arms; setting them down gently. Sasuke complied momentarily; he would ask again later.

"I need to record your condition," She said quietly. "It's my day off, but Shishou assumed you'd be more cooperative since we were in the same team."

Sasuke took note of the "Shishou"; she much respected her mentor. Even if he wasn't there, the "beautiful and equally skilled Slug Princess", as he heard once, (along with "The Legendary Sucker") had a much respected reputation. It was impossible not to hear of her apprentice, Haruno Sakura.

She was oddly distant. He didn't want her all over him; but she was a teammate, and looking through all Naruto, she, and himself had been in, it was enough.

Enough to keep him distracted for a while from his true purpose.

_But_, He reminded himself, _I also left the village for nearly four years. Even she isn't that..._, He struggled with a word, _stupid._

Her hands glided themselves over his chest and back, and sometimes he had felt the chakra radiate in him.

"Naruto fought bravely," She said suddenly, her eyes away from him and to her duties. Sasuke imagined her crying like she used to, even though he could not see her expression. He somehow understood why she hesitated earlier in stating something she didn't wish to state; for it would ring all too clear and true, "He survived, barely. Kakashi carried his body. You were lighter, and I carried you. I healed what needed attention as much as I could, but then we arrived at Sand to heal better and such. I repaired what needed to be and the rest was done here. The injuries weren't very severe by then, and while they didn't require further healing, you needed rest. You've been asleep for...only three days," She paused, "which is exceptional."

Sakura put the stethoscope on his chest, "Inhale." Sasuke followed, and waited for a moment.

"Exhale." He did so, and Sakura took notes, "Good." She asked him to repeat it, each time her hand and cold metal at a different part. "I studied your head injuries, and noted there was a slight chance of memory loss but it's nothing permanent, and should only be very recent memories," She said, skimming her hands over his ribs in study. "Only the battle. You'll regain them slowly."

It condensed into silence once more, but then Sasuke asked.

"Where's Naruto?"

She suddenly jerked forward, and Sasuke's still healing, broken shoulder did not appreciate the sudden shard of pain.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun, what did you say? You surprised me, since it was so silent."

Sasuke would ponder on her answer later, "I said, where's Naruto?"

"He's on a mission. Shishou wanted to put some of his energy of your waking up into good use," Sakura said with a smile.

She examined what she could in his minor immobility, and after taking notes, placing the pencil behind her ear, and smoothing out her hair, she turned to Sasuke.

"I have to report to Shishou. She trusts me enough to take care of you alone, but she wants to know of your condition so she can calculate how much longer you'll stay here. She needs to talk to you as well, though I'm not sure when. She's... busy," She listed, knowing full well "busy" meant an appointment with several gallons of sake. Sasuke did not need to ask why she needed to meet him; it was probably to inform him of his punishment. He knew, though, that it wasn't death; or at least, it wouldn't be yet. Not until they extracted info on Sound's secrets. Even with Orochimaru dead, his scrolls in the wrong hands were perilous.

Sakura paused at the door, her long hair swaying, "Oh, and Sasuke-kun?"

"Aa?"

She smiled at him,"Welcome back."

"Hn."

She closed the door behind her with a soft click.

* * *

Sakura visited him for the subsequent days. For the most part they passed like a breeze; some days he slept and ate and lived and breathed, freedom in grasp. Other days, he felt anticipation and fire erupt in his stomach; a sure sign that he was anxious for a spar. Majority of such were relaxed, not at all overbearing; though, he smelt of apples– _But better than wasting money on flowers_, he approved– rather than the ash of his jutsu. ("An apple a day keeps the doctor away," Sakura said with a smile.)

Sakura talked to him and kept him company; sometimes she just stayed there for an hour reading. It was nostalgic somehow and the dim lighting with the gentle winds mesmerized him. Patches of sunshine would appear on his blanket, and bells would ring at the separation of pink lips. He felt wrapped up and safe, her smiles warm and wooly.

It was dangerous, and he knew the sooner he'd leave the later (if ever) he'd have to confront it.

He mostly read books Sakura left, (since she came everyday as his nurse so she didn't feel the need to carry her books everywhere and thought he might learn something from them anyway. Like his forehead protector, they smelt like vanilla and Sasuke felt questionable to it all.) which were to aid her medical studies. (He once picked a book, figuring it was Sakura's, but to his surprise the book opened to the words "and he grabbed her hips to him, kissing her open mouthed-". Right before his immediate slamming close of the book, on the inside cover his eyes caught the katakana "ha", "ta", and "ke". He'd thrown the book out the window immediately, and pictured Kakashi's face falling four stories down.) Beneath the pile of text though, he'd found humor, horror, and action involving olden time samurai; sometimes manga was nestled in the books and he could picture Sakura pretending to study but behind the volumes secretly reading about the famous escapades of orphaned samurai Umakina Tozuru.

To his surprise, there was not one romance.

However, in any case, one day was in different fashion. On July eighteenth, Sakura came in her usual clothing; red t-shirt, black shorts, tan skirt-like accessory. A white jacket she adorned along with a light blue umbrella was in addition though, for it was raining.

But she did not throw her bag from her shoulder to her usual wooden chair, nor did she strip off her jacket and chuck it to the coat rack with exact aim she gained over her years as a ninja. Instead, she apologized.

"Sorry Sasuke-kun, but I can't visit you today. I have something really, really important."

He didn't even turn to her, "What is it?"

"It's really important," She echoed, giving him a look that encompassed furrowed eyebrows.

She avoided the question.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist, "Ah, I'll see you tomorrow!" Sakura ran out the door, her bag repeatedly dislodging itself against her hip.

When Sasuke had glanced to her direction, he narrowed his eyes at the unusual black cloth that peaked out of her knapsack.

* * *

Most days passed as ordinarily as they did before after that point; Sasuke still pestered Sakura about Naruto, ("The Dobe," was all he had to say and she answered.) who in turn said she would pester

Shishou and ask. Kakashi never visited when Sasuke was awake (Sasuke sourly remembered Icha Icha in a pile of medical books), and for a period of two weeks his life was _eat-sleep-breathe-live-Sakura-Naruto-read_. He couldn't train; he literally couldn't. He found that they had bound him to his bed with a jutsu so that he couldn't move his muscles strenuously, ("Sakura worked hard on that jutsu," Tsunade grinned.) and his chakra was sealed taut.

He needed to escape; but might as well savor the advanced medical attention that glowed in comparison to his sloppy wrapped gauze and one second once-overs. He'd run from Konohagakure as soon as things became more at ease in his presence, and life would continue as it was supposed to.

Or if Konohagakure proved it had something to offer to him.

Sasuke still couldn't grasp that Sakura had become so distant; what she was trying to hide?

Her heart, maybe?

Sakura smiled (there was something bothersome about it, he narrowed his eyes), and handed him a bento. He felt babied, but he figured trying to argue would be a waste of breath an a waste of good (tomato containing) food, especially in comparison to hospital food, "Right now, you will not be Uchiha Sasuke..."

Sasuke stared at her like she was insane, but quickly snatched his bento and chopsticks. The faster he healed, the faster he could leave.

"You'll only be Sasuke-kun."

He ignored her, apparently, but then his hand was suddenly outstretched; silently gesturing for her to accept an onigiri from the lunch she dutifully prepared.

* * *

_**...to be continued...**_

* * *

**1. This story is planned to become angsty. LIKE CHARACTER DEATH.**

**2. Planning to be eventual SasuSaku. **

**3.** **Updates come when I'm passionate**.

**4.** **It'll_ try _to be in character****. Tell me if they are OOC.**

** There were two versions of this chapter; I kept uploading the crappy one because I mislabeled them. So I just reposted. For the 3rd time. To those who repeatedly see this story, I apologize. :P Also, it's probably too late but the revisions were too small to be significant.  
**


	3. Burn

**Quadrate**

**Chapter Two: Burn**

_**(underneath the underneath there lied a goldmine of pyrite**_

"...and finally, number thirty-seven, a broken shoulder."

Sasuke just stared as Tsunade continued the listing of his injuries, which with great memory, she did without a paper. It was as if she was just trying to rub everything in his face and practiced reading (inflicting) the greatest way to get the most guilt and uneasiness out of him.

If he'd been correct with that interpretation, Sasuke wouldn't have been too surprised.

"...Luckily for you, Sakura was talented enough to heal all thirty-seven out of those thirty seven listed injuries, not including memory loss. It will heal in no more than a month or two, and that's more than unlikely for it to be as long as two months, but still possible."

Sasuke's face remained unchanging and nonchalant. In truth, he was far from excited. It wasn't as if he would be here for an extensive period, (first he needed trust, then when everything was peachy between him and the village he'd implement the bond to his advantage and journey again. Perhaps travel in constancy to build himself up then find his damned brother, challenging him to a grand full-out brawl. Of course, he himself _would_ arrive victorious) and Lady Hokage only informed him about things that required no more concern than a broken nail.

"Now, you will–"

"When will he be back?"

Tsunade looked peeved at the interruption, hands on her hips reflexively, "Being rude won't get you anywhere, Uchiha."

Sasuke plainly ignored this, "When will he be back?"

"Naruto?" Sasuke almost snorted at that, because who else? And hadn't Sakura been asking Tsunade for him? Obviously, she should've known.

Sasuke nodded, and Tsunade registered this as "yes".

"Ah, yes," Tsunade replied, and Sasuke raised a dark eyebrow. "He's a Jounin now, you know, so he got an A-rank mission. It's unsure when he'll be back."

Sasuke grunted. It had been over two weeks. Maybe the dobe did hate him and didn't care.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Tsunade cleared her throat, "Anyway, now that you're healthy, we'll begin interrogation tomorrow at nine in the morning. Don't be late, Uchiha. Every second counts on that life of yours."

Pivoting on her right foot, blonde hair swung as Tsunade exited the white of the hospital room.

* * *

"Are you excited?" Sakura whispered, following him closely in step with childlike playfulness. She didn't seem too worried about the impending situation, so seemingly she bluntly had complete faith in him. Or her mentor leaked out what she'd implement to torture Sasuke, and Sakura secretly wanted him to burn in hell and thus was greatly excited at out Sasuke's impending doom.

Considering Tsunade's less than affectionate speech the other day, he was slightly wary.

Sasuke simply gave her a look as if she was stupid.

Sakura shrugged, and her pale fingers reached to tuck a stray pink strand behind her ear, "Okay, so maybe excited isn't the best choice of word. But aren't you nervous or something? With that expression, you look like you're going in there to window shop." Sakura paused, "I know that you'd spill all of Orochimaru's secrets whether you were interrogated or not since they're probably not useful to you, but no one else..." _Trusts me_, Sasuke thought. "thinks you would. It's required and it would be unfair not to." Sakura frowned, and her expression formed to something beseeching, "Sasuke-kun, please try to be cooperative, okay? It'll go smoother that way, I swear. Shishou tells me about this sort of stuff all the time. If you cooperate, they'll–"

Sasuke snorted, and picked up his speed as Sakura (who insisted on coming along, and Sasuke didn't feel like saying more than he needed to when he didn't care if she went in the first place) mimicked his movement (which was stiff, because even though he could move out of bed, the seal on his chakra slowed and limited flow so he could not focus it well.) until she fell into step.

Sakura dropped the previous subject and resumed the one sided conversation, sometimes coupled with gestures. At times she'd mentally squeeze him into an invisible corner until he uttered something or at least pretended that he was attentive to her ramblings.

Sasuke knew she was trying to keep something alive because she presented herself so awkwardly. She would drift off during a sentence and start a new subject, twiddle her hands, or glance at him out of the corner of her eye. (he caught her 3 times, and each time she turned her head so fast he thought she might cry out in whiplash) Sasuke wondered what the hell she was trying to keep alive (or revive, because right now whatever it was felt dead) and why. It couldn't be normality, because unless Sakura was still stupid enough to think things would ever be normal again (or maybe he just gave up too easily on things, and an inner voice added, "At least if they don't carry out mass murder on your clan.") she wouldn't attempt to foolishly do so.

Yet somehow Sasuke could not muster the acrimony to inform her of that.

"We're here," Sakura announced, feet planted as she gazed at the structure. Sasuke wondered why she was always so pointless. She journeyed here everyday to work, as did everyone else, didn't she? If anything, _he_ should gaze, but Sasuke wasn't one to gaze and he settled for simply being indifferent. "I'm not exactly sure where they go for the actual interrogation, Sasuke-kun. I'm sorry."

Sasuke was tempted to ask, "What the hell are you apologizing for?" And indeed, like a cat with a mouse dangling in his eyes, he had leapt to the bait and asked– quickly regretting saying it when he didn't mean to– like a cat who ventured too far and returned with a mouse trap on its hand, "What the hell are you apologizing for?"

Sakura seemed surprised at this, eyes wide like she was suddenly caught in the spotlight of a stage. She bit her lip, as if wondering how to reply in the game Sasuke riddled with scattered explosives, and settled for avoiding it entirely, "I'll see you later, Sasuke-kun. I'll probably be with Ino-pig, or you could ask Tsunade-shishou..."

Sasuke nodded, not eager for a reply in the first place, and her back rotated to face him; red shirt with that simple white circle, glossy hair long and pink like a strip of sky in a sunset he'd once seen. Her footsteps were graceful in her black boots and the white sleeves of her off-day uniform fluttered.

A starkly different Sakura.

Perhaps it was his last comment that unerringly (yet unintentionally) bulleted into territory best left unexplored, or maybe the way her shoulders stood tall with her out-of-place silence. Maybe it was simply something that did not concern him in the least and he should therefore ignore it completely.

Or possibly it was just the simple attraction to someone who still talked to him like years ago.

Hardly. Sasuke had no attachments. He did not append to anything. Not his teammate who was as foolish as she was loving, not his other teammate who was probably as stupid as he was brotherly.

* * *

Like a hurricane, Sasuke had stormed into the building undeterred, and if there was a sea it would've immediately parted for him. It wasn't the way he walked, per se; at least not entirely. It was more the way he carried himself with an atmosphere of, 'look, don't touch' that clued strangers into how the man ticked soon after encountering him. His shoulders were back, his stance tall, spine as smooth-straight as rich marble tiling. His gazes was forward, as if anything else was below him. One glance from Sasuke, sharingan or not, could intimidate even the bravest of men to a puddle.

The only people who did not see this were his two teammates, blind as if they stared at Maito Gai's teeth far too much than necessary.

His fingers curled against the brass knob of the wooden door. His feet padding on the hardwood suddenly seemed to jump in volume as he pushed slightly against the door and the air seemed to sink into his lungs.

Why was he so scared?

He sighed. It would be alright. He could do this. He'd exit alive and well, Konohagakure's pure oxygen deluging his insides and clearing his senses. He'd avenge his clan, and from the ashes the Uchiha would once again stand proud with his wife by his side. There would be children frolicking in happiness inside the boundaries of the Uchiha estate gate that was far too large for simply himself.

Far too large.

His arm stretched out to open the door as light flooded into the dankness of the hall he was in.

"Hello, Uchiha-brat."

* * *

Smoke burned the inside of his nose, and Sasuke remained outwardly unfazed. When he was thirteen, he hadn't pictured himself bound to a chair with various seals with craftily tied rope and at the mercy of the infamous Morino Ibiki four years later.

Then again, he hadn't imagined himself a missing-nin, or at Konohagakure without the head of his brother.

In truth, several years later (had he resided in Konohagakure rather than leaving) he might've been here working. Sasuke may have preferred more adventurous missions, but his sharingan would prove as a valuable asset to the interrogation group.

Another long wisp of puffy gray, presumably miles darker than Kakashi's hair, triggered the thought that he hadn't recalled Ibiki smoking. Not that he knew him well in the first place. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if Ibiki completely used cigarettes to taunt those who were addicted to the essence of nicotine or disgust those who preferred not to. Or enhance his already threatening image.

Sasuke, by a stroke of (bad) luck, (or karma, because he didn't think he'd been much of a good boy lately anyway.) was one of the latter. Except he was much more disgusted by cigarettes than the average person. Sasuke thought God had done so to balance out his somewhat admirable self-control.

Tsunade had, after her lovely greeting, explained to him the process of his interrogation. They would blindfold him for two reasons: one, no one except the interrogators and the Hokage were to be aware of where the questioning took place. It was secretive so that no one would know where to break in if they called for back up or if back up came for the captured. Two, his sharingan could be used manipulatively, and of course, Konoha did not want that.

_Three_, Sasuke supplemented silently as an invisible rule, _to scare those who relied on vision. _

Obviously, it intimidated some to not know what was going on around you. The interrogators could hold a cigarette in your face and you'd be unaware, they could grasp a blade in hand and you wouldn't know to brace yourself, etcetera. You could know what was happening, but the uncertainty of where that blade or weapon was frightening. Sasuke himself was strong in vision, so to prevent excess reliance he made sure that he balanced himself in taijutsu, ninjutsu, and weapon handling with his kusanagi. His sharingan covered most of the genjutsu he needed, and the techniques he knew were mostly moves that supported his current fighting style; aiding him where he lacked or building himself up to a climactic final move.

If you did know what was going around you...well, you wouldn't get very far with your natural body flow blocked; your chakra.

For some reason, Sasuke found himself contemplating Sakura's earlier words in the beginning of the questioning. The last thing Sasuke wanted was a hassle, and grudgingly, he swallowed his pride and complied. If not, the next interrogation would be leveled up; being tortured for information her could care less about was not on his to-do list.

"Uchiha," He heard Ibiki say, "You're the type of man who doesn't like to beat around the bush, am I right? You've answered all my questions with ease, and you're not lying. You're almost done with interrogation, and soon you'll be able to run off to your pink-haired girlfriend."

Sasuke understood that the girlfriend comment was just Ibiki's way and ignored it. That, however, did not stop him from snapping his head up or parting his lips to venomously deny it (which, thankfully, was halted before he said something he'd regret) and answered curtly, "Yeah, and?"

_Cool_. He had to be calm. Hold down his anger until he could leave.

...Sasuke would see if he could organize training on– with some (unfortunate) trees later.

Sasuke could feel the smirk in Ibiki's voice, "Well then, Uchiha, let's talk about your sharingan for a moment, shall we?" Sasuke thought he heard Ibiki pace and his ears perked to try and decide where Ibiki was.

"Your sharingan," Ibiki began, "About how often do you use it? On average, I'll guess about four to five times a day."

Sasuke replied with a short, "Five" in an attempt to get the whole ordeal over with. He had to be (or pretend to be) cooperative, he thought, thinking back to Sakura's words. Sasuke wasn't sure what Morino was trying to do.

But whatever it was, it unnerved Sasuke. He was giving Morino what he wanted, he could feel it, so Sasuke had to be cautious he didn't reveal something better left unsaid.

If only Sasuke knew _what_.

"Really now?" Ibiki said, "That's quite a lot... so every week, you'll use it about thirty-five times? Then every month, you'll use it... at least 140 times?" Ibiki did not stop there, and like an eagle he swerved in for the finishing blow, "I think you're a bit...dependant on your sharingan then, huh? It leads me to wonder... how strong are you without sharingan? Especially without your sensei..."

Sasuke felt himself go rigid at Ibiki's words. A chill snaked down his spine and even though Sasuke knew it was a trick– it _had_ to be– he wondered.

How strong _was_ he without sharingan? Without a sensei?

"Well, that's not important right now," Ibiki shooed it off in false disinterest, knowing _fully_ well it was important, "Kakashi...have you heard anything interesting about him while you were away?"

Sasuke shook himself out of his stupor and– carelessly– replied vocally, as he was still a bit unnerved from the earlier statement, "He'd helped in a defeat of an Akatsuki." Sasuke, actually, had little to no contact with the outside world in terms of information unless it was notable, due to Orochimaru's sheltering, "as well as a few other–"

"His eye," Ibiki interrupted, "What about his eye? Haven't you heard about his sharingan?"

Sasuke had no intentions of speaking when he didn't need to, and remained mute.

"So you haven't heard about the rumors?" Ibiki asked, sounding quite genuinely surprised, "Well, Anko did tell me how Orochimaru was quite controlling with her lifestyle when she trained under him..."

* * *

Eyes searching above the crowd, Sasuke used his height to his advantage and in between a mass of colors he scanned the crowd for pink.

He had considered searching for her.

A few tedious questions later, and Ibiki allowed him to depart. Of course, someone was probably trailing Sasuke as he browsed along the city, but it was to be expected.

He would've been greatly disappointed if not.

Konohagakure's citizens, apparently, did not recognize him. Granted, the crowd was large and his hair color and eye color weren't exactly as unique as Sakura's own features, for instance, but Uchiha _was_ a prominent clan.

Was.

He'd asked Tsunade about Sakura's whereabouts. Tsunade quirked a brow at the odd request (An inner voice snorted, "Well, you never seemed to_care_ before.") and said she ventured to the marketplace with Ino, "But she's due here soon to meet with me, so you might want to wait."

Sasuke was in no mood to wait (it was a miracle he even bothered to listen to her explanation.) So he nodded in a curt farewell, rude but certainly signature.

People were shifting in and out of his vision like ocean waves, and it was a miracle Sasuke had managed to find Sakura. She was at the new (Sasuke eyed the signs that boisterously stated so.) café type bakery, sipping on some grandly placed together dessert-drink, and Ino took a stab at her coffee brown cake as Sakura swallowed. She conversed with Ino, Ino occasionally nodding or opening her own mouth for a simple comment, but she mostly consumed her slice of pastry that was generously smothered with what appeared to be chocolate. The way Sasuke saw it, Sakura was confiding with Ino. Sasuke never expected for them to be close again, but he knew females could be as close as they were catty.

After much pushing and shoving, Sasuke had managed to enter the humble bakery, the door opening with a jingle. The place was fairly popular; not too busy, not too empty. Sasuke wondered if he could find something he liked, considering he wasn't entirely fond of sweets.

Sakura sat at the round table at the far left, and Sasuke seated himself a few tables behind her. ANBU would note if he was staying close to the Hokage's apprentice and not simply planning an escape plan. Staying close to her would show his willingness to appeal the Hokage and be obedient.

Just until he could escape. Itachi was waiting.

His eyes trailed back to Sakura, Sakura whose eyes were cast downward and her hands folded conservatively in her lap. Sasuke hear a small handful of words.

"...tell him...he's dead...how? ...still...don't hate...why?"

Sasuke strained his ears, somewhat interested, but next to him, had been a loud squeak. A blushing waitress eyed him, clearing her throat and asking, pen and paper in hand, what Sasuke wished to order. Sasuke, who hadn't looked through the menu, ordered the most ordinary coffee drink there. (He didn't have much money anyway; just some wrinkled bills he found in his old wallet, which Sakura had handed to him)

"Aw, shoot!"

Sasuke's eyes darted to the noise, and there was Sakura, staring mournfully at her watch, "I'm gonna be late! Bye, Ino!" Slapping some bills on the table, and gathering her stuff, she and Ino departed, leaving Sasuke alone.

**---**

_**...to be continued...**_

** ---**

**I'm struggling with Sasuke's characterization, please bear with me. For those of you curious about the length of this fic, I think it'll be surprisingly short. Chapter length will probably be 4-5 pages in Verdana 8. I've somewhat planned to the end. (with some difficulty so far. Note the interrogation scene.**

**I lack consistence with diverse adjectives, it's riddled with mistakes, and my updates...ew. But for dealing with me, I have to say I love you, dear readers. Platonically, but I love you nonetheless.**


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